Against Her Will
by Ice Princess of the North
Summary: Please don't read this before I've edited it! Now it's just crap... But it's gonna be much better, I swear ^___^
1. A New Year

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Harry Potter. He belongs to Rowling only…*sigh*

A/N: this chapter is quite fluffy, but I promise; it WILL get darker. And darker. And darker…

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**Against Her Will**

By Aradia Violet.

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_And now I'm all alone again_

_Nowhere to turn, no one to go to_

_Without a home, without a friend,_

_Without a face to say hello to._

_~__Les Misérables_

**Chapter One: A New Year.**

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He stood on platform 9 ¾, watching the crow. A new year. Finally! Harry had never believed two months could take so much time.

Most of the time he had spent on his room, writing and waiting for letters delivered by Hedwig. Letters written by Cho, the girl –no, the woman- of his dreams. Now she was finally his! For three long painfully years he'd been longing after her, the thought of her not leaving him for a second. And then, just when his 5th year was at its end, he'd dared to tell her about his feelings for her. He hadn't told her before because she was still mourning for Cedric, or that's what he used to tell himself. Deep inside he knew it was because he was a coward. He just couldn't manage to be refused.

But when he had spoken to her, an unbelievable thing happened, at least according to him: Cho had smiled and kissed him! Straight on the mouth. Harry'd found out she was the best kisser he knew, but then he hadn't kissed that many. He could still remember that day; it was a bright spring-morning, the sun shined down from a cloud-less sky. He'd asked Cho to come with him, and she had willingly followed him through the hole in the full-blown rose-hedge behind Hogwarts –the one he and Ron used to hide away from the world back when they was ten. When he closed his eyes, Harry could smell the cent from the purple-coloured flowers mixed with Cho's perfume. She had used some sort of vanilla, he mused, but couldn't be quite sure; perfumes had never been his strong point.        

The few days that was left of the school year they'd spend together and Harry wished it could last forever. 

"Harry" a soft voice said. He spun around, and faced Cho.

"Hi!" he embraced her. " I've missed you," he whispered into the perfect shaped ear behind all the black hair, inhaling the vanilla fragrance. 

"I've missed you to" she said, giving him a long, warm kiss.

Harry carefully released from her, still smiling and light-headed from the kiss.

"We're late, the train's soon leaving." He explained, lifting their trunks. Cho started to walk beside him.

" Can you believe we're in our 6th year already?" she said as he helped him carry the trunks up the train-stairs. " It's almost as my first school-day was yesterday."

" Yeah, but the holiday felt like years when I couldn't be with you" Harry said, flinging himself down on an unoccupied seat. 

"Oh, you're so sweet!" Cho smiled, bending down and giving him a light kiss on his forehead.

" Is that all I get?" Harry said with artificial disappointment. Then he put his arms around her waist, pulling her down on his lap. She giggled and covered his mouth with hers. 

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Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry was bathing in sunlight. Its spires drew higher and higher up to the bright blue sky, and some chirping birds could be seen as they flew into their nests under the stone roof. Hermione let out a satisfied sigh, squeezing Ron's hand. They'd been dating for more than one year now, and Hermione had never been this happy before, she thought. She looked at Ron, who looked back at her. 

" Is there anything you love more than school, 'mione?" He said with a childish smile. She knew that he knew that she thought he was the most adorable person in the world when he was like that. 

" Well, just give me a second to think about it, will you?" She answered teasingly.  

" No," she said after a moment " absolutely nothing" she waited to se how Ron's expression changed.

Then she gave a rippling laugh. " Except you of course!" 

" Do you know what? I also love me more than I love school. I'm glad we agree with each other." Ron said. Hermoine pretended to slap him, and then placing her hands on both sides of his head. 

Ron responsed by kissing her, and suddenly Hermione's world had shrunk into only containing them and this kiss; the only thing that mattered. 

They parted a moment later and headed to the massive oak-door, leading to the school, which had been there as long as anyone could remember. Their hands and fingers remained twisted together all the way into the Great Hall.  

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In the shadows of the Whomping Willow, a lonely red-haired girl was gazing the crowd, her sight blurred by tears. She stood like this for a moment, considering what she was intending to do. 

Then she saw one particular couple, one Asian girl with her hands round her boyfriend's waist, and she let out a loud sob. 

She turned around, and faced the Whomping Willow. Her end of this miserable life.

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	2. A Rescuer

**Disclaimer**: I own nobody in this story, they belong Rowling only (and WB of course, who thought of this as a great opportunity for making some money...) 

**My mission**: To make a story that _you_'ll (hopefully) enjoy. 

**Your mission**: to review!!!

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Against Her Will By Aradia Violet 

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Breathe some faith into my chest   
Lay me down, I need the rest   
Ever since the sky turned grey   
I've waited for the perfect day

_~__Roxette_

Chapter Two: A Rescuer

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Draco Malfoy was running like he'd never run before. His breath came out as gasps, his cloak flapping around his legs. Would he make it on time? 

As soon as he got off the horseless carriage, he set off for the Forbidden Forest with only one thought in his mind. To find _her, _before it was too late. 

She'd sent him an owl a week before, telling him what she was planning to do. Immediately he had replied, saying that she must never ever do something like that, and that she would regret for the rest of her life, if there were anything left of it by then. But she'd seemed so determined, no matter what he said. However, the fact that she'd told him when and where this event was going to take place, brightened the little hope he had left. Maybe she wanted him to come rescue her?

Suddenly a shrill scream cut through the silence. Draco whirled around, trying to locate the sound. He squinted towards the sinking sun, and saw a tiny shape being sent into the air. She was being held by the boughs connected to an enormous tree. It was a rare and old tree, almost extinct, known as the Whomping Willow.  The girl, or so Draco assumed, according to how high the voice had been, was still shrieking, but the sound had lost some of its strength. He faltered for a moment, thinking about whether he should go help the poor girl or continue in the opposite direction, which he was going in the first place. He cursed the gods for putting him in such a dilemma and with a sigh he hurried to the grand tree, fumbling with his wand. 

When he was within reach of the Willow, the girl was only a limp, bloody body, not trying to struggle at all. Draco had only time to hope she was not dead before two massive boughs hit him in the face and stomach. He was thrown many meters back, and landed with a thud on the grass. The blow had busted his lip, which started to bleed. 

The Willow creaked with anger. Draco feverishly found his wand, searching his brain for any spell that might work, but it felt as though a fog was obstructing from thinking clear. That damned Willow!

Desperately, he cried out the only spell that came to mind. He remembered learning it in the Defence Against the Dark Arts last year, but he hadn't been practicing in it since then. Fortunately, the spell had worked, and a chill wind flew out from the tip of the wand, surrounding the Willow, which shivered slightly and let its boughs sag.

Feeling somewhat proud of himself, Draco hurried to catch the falling girl from the enchanted Willow, at least five meters above, as he wondered how on earth he had got himself into this. A beated-up Malfoy was way out of character, but then again; Malfoy's always lend a hand if that could give them some glory. And rescuing this faire maiden from the dangerous tree, like a knight in shining armour, would definitely give him some credit. 

"Ouch." The girl had landed on top of his head instead of his arms, which made him fall over as well. He felt his breath being squeezed out of his lungs when he hit the ground. After taking some steady breaths, he carefully placed the girl's head on his lap, removing the hair that covered her face.

When he saw whom it was, his heart suddenly stopped beating for a second. The person he'd risked his life for, was Ginny Weasley! Daughter of a crazy Muggle-lover, whose wallet housed nothing but moths. Draco would greatly preferred to leave her, but he found out that that probably would have been the same as letting her die.   

She was full of scratches and wounds, making her slight body red with blood. Draco once more raised his wand, mumbling "_cleanoisum_." Slowly Ginny's pale skin emerged, exposing hundreds of freckles. 

She'd long deep-red eyelashes, and eyebrows in the same colour. The way her brows curved, made her seem so wondering and innocent. Draco had never noticed this before, surely because he'd never actually looked at her. To him Ginny had just been the little sister to that git Ron Weasley. He became aware of her little, round mouth. It was half-opened and it reminded him of a mussel.  He kept gazing at her, lost in thoughts. 

Suddenly her face yanked, giving her an expression of pain. She let out a weak moan, trying to open her eyes.

"Harry?" she said dimly.    

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**A/N**: One meter is quite the same as three feet.

I don't think this story's going to be as 'soapy' as I imagined, but I hope you'll like it anyway=) 

And thank you for reviewing; it warms my heart:) 

I haven't put it out earlier cuz I couldn't get into ffnet at all=(So now I've had plenty of time making the next chapter…

And thanks to Francesca and Anne Marie. You're great!


	3. The Marking Ceremony

A/N: sorry for taking so long time, but my computer went crazy. And I've also started to write on a new fanfic… I think it's gonna be pretty cool=)

means that someone's thinking.

And, as usual, my disclaimer: Ok *cough*. I do NOT own Harry Potter or any other of our friends at Hogwarts (except Draco, whom I'm keeping tied in my bedroom;)). The only thing I own is this plot and my characterization of the people it contains. The grammar mistakes, though, is NOT mine… ahem…ok, just read the story, please!!!    

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Against Her Will By Aradia Violet 

**Chapter Three: The Marking Ceremony**

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Everything was black. Ginny tried to open her eyes, but realized they already were opened. She blinked, but it was still dark. It must be night, she thought, although no squib could be heard. Every inch of her body was hurting, like someone had just slammed her into a rock wall. She felt her head laying on something soft rising from the ground, not in the grass. She recognized it as a lap.

Suddenly a warm feeling rushed through her. It was the same feeling she got every time Harry was around. The feeling that she was leaving her body and floating on a soft cloud. She tried to smile, but then her lip started to ache.****

"Harry" she said dimly, raising her hand toward where she thought his face would be. "What are you doing here?"****

Not a sound.****

"Harry?" she said again. Still she didn't get any answer. "I asked you; what are you doing here?" she demanded more firmly.

"Did that Willow take away your memory or something, Weasley?" She heard a voice say. The feeling she had felt, vanished.****

"Draco?" She said flabbergasted.****

"Yes, Draco. And now I think you should get off my leg, it's fallen asleep." ****

Slightly confused, she tried to get up, but her legs wouldn't carry her, so she sat down in the grass, looking suspicious at where she thought Draco was. 

"What are you doing here?" She heard him stand up.  ****

"Saving your life. And stop repeating yourselves, I'm not deaf."

"Saving my life? I thought the sky had to become green, and the moon turn into a cheese before that happened. Save me from what?" She added.

"From ending up like something rather uninviting." A little impatient he continued, "Are you going to take my hand or what? I'm beginning to get tired of holding it out."

"And how do you think I'm able to see your hand when it's in the middle of the night?" she snapped. His tone annoyed her. She reached out a hand, which he seized. Then he dragged her up. Grudgingly she put her arm around his neck, letting him hold her up.

" What are you talking about, Weasley? The sun hasn't even set!"

"But it's all dark!"       

"You can't see anything?" he sounded somewhat anxious.

"No" she said unsteadily.

Then he tightened his grip around her. 

"I think we better hurry," he said when she let out a surprised exclamation of his move, and started to walk up to the castle. She limped as fast as she could, trying to ignore the pain that shot through her leg every time she set it down. 

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Draco had to carry the swooned Ginny all the stairs up to the hospital wing. Not that he mind; she was as light as a feather. Actually he didn't know why he even bothered doing this; Draco Malfoy didn't do favours -but, he reminded himself, it would've been pure evil to let her lay on the field, and despite what everyone said, he wasn't that bad. And another more particular thing; why did the fact that Weasley couldn't see hassle him? But deep inside he knew what kind of courses that occasioned blindness, all of them dark, and it was mainly because of that he'd become a little anxious, even if it was only Ginny. Then there was the fact that she'd referred him as 'Draco', in contrast to Potter and his little gang. What did that mean? 

The Weasley-girl had passed out at the foot of the stairs. It was strange, he thought, to have someone completely depending on him. No one had ever done that before, apart from…. Pansy! He had forgotten her! "Draco, you're such a fucking idiot," he murmured angry. He knocked on the hospital door, and handed Ginny to a surprised madam Pomfrey. Then he ran down the stone stairs, out the main entrance, and directly to the Forbidden Forest. 

The sky was coloured purple and blood red, the trees waving in the wind in a black contrast. Out of breath, he leaned against a tree trunk where the forest began. He scouted into the dark, looking for a trace or evidence or anything at all. The more he searched, the more eased did he get. If everything looks as normal, then nothing can have happened! He kept telling himself.

Suddenly he gasped, and dashed forward to a patch some metres away. It was shaped as a circle, and the middle of it was black by ash. The circle itself was totally round, and had room for exactly five people at the rim, and one in the centre. Draco had seen this too many times in his life. His father had insisted that Draco should be present at every Marking of high-ranked person. Draco knew perfectly well how the ceremony elapsed. Voldemort used the oldest part of the dungeons, which contained most vibrations from dead prisoners. He always had four masked men within the circle, though they didn't actually _do_ anything, at least Draco couldn't see what use the Dark Lord had of them. They just stood there, not saying a word. It had to be some sort of ancient magic, Draco thought. Torches lighted the dungeon, causing creepy wandering shadows in every corner. 

Then Voldemort would take a step forward, and the one that would get marked, kneeled down. What happened after that, Draco didn't know. The whole room was always filled with a (if there actually _is _something like that) black light, lasting for several moments. Draco hated this part most of all. It spread the same coldness that the Dementors, penetrate your entire body and mind. As though an arrow made of ice had pierced through your heart, and you could never get healed from the wound. It made you want to cry and scream and never stop, but not able to even move a finger, and all you felt was falling. Falling forever. Time didn't matter, place didn't matter. The only thing in the world was you and the darkness that surrounded you completely, and made you wonder if you were dead, and this was the place they'd send you to.

Suddenly he would be disengaging from the thoughts or dreams or whatever it was, and the dungeon would be exactly like how it had been some minutes (or was it hours?) ago. It never seemed like any of the others in the room was affected like Draco, except the Dedicated one. He or she always looked as if they'd seen a ghost, pale and trembling, clutching their forearm. Their dreadful eyes glued themselves to Draco's mind, making him wake up from a nightmare, his pyjamas soaked and the bedclothes undone, himself gasping like he'd ran a marathon. He'd swore he would never _ever _let them make the eyes of the ones he loved look like that.

And now he had failed.    

_Blinded by a crazy light   
I fell into the darkest night   
Those magic ties   
The two of us   
I couldn't see it turn to dust_

_~__Roxette_

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A/N: I want to thank EVERYONE that has reviewed my story. THANX THANX THANX!!!! I luv u all:)

And a special thank to Annie, my wonderful beta=)  ****


	4. The Morning After

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing except the plot. Please don't sue me; I can't even afford a lawyer.  

Against Her Will

By Aradia Violet

_When the night drags on  
when the fever burns  
come to your senses  
everybody learns___

If it looks like rain  
if it makes no sounds  
it's an echo of pain on common ground

~Elton John.

**Chapter Four; The Morning After**

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_" Come on, sweetie, you have to go to bed." Joanna said smilingly to their little daughter, which willingly let her mother carry her up the stairs.___

_" Good night daddy" she called sleepily to her father. He looked up from the newspaper, and blew her a kiss. _

_Sweet dreams," he whispered before she disappeared into the bathroom. Then he folded the paper, yawned and rose. He headed to the kitchen, intending to make a cup of hot milk and honey to his pregnant wife. _

_He hummed softly to himself, thinking about how lucky he was after all. A faint singing could be heard from the bedroom, soft as a gentle summer breeze, driving away all disheartening and sad thoughts. He started to stir the content in the kettle by drawing circles in the air with his wand. He sniffed the scent of up warmed honey mixed with the smell of a clear summer night. It smelled like life, he thought to himself.   _

_He waved his wand toward the cupboard, and a sunny yellow ceramic mug floated through the air, stopping right over the kettle. He poured the milk into the cup, and seized it by the handle. _

_He was just aboutto turn around to call for his wife when he heard a sound. Very slowly he gripped his wand, all senses alert. These were dangerous times, and one couldn't be too prepared. In the corner of his eye, he saw in a glimpse of a slender woman-silhouette, wrapped in a midnight-blue cloak. He relaxed a little: it was probably just the neighbour giving them a visit. She was so familiar with them that she often forgot to knock.   _

_The intruder didn't hesitate a second, and even before he could figure out what had happened, he had hit the floor, shrouded in an unnatural green light, his limbs stiff, his blood frozen and eyes staring into nothing.  _

_No evidence could be found that proved that a visitor had been there that night, killing the man lying on the floor. ___

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Where the hell am I? was the first thought that occurred to Ginny when she woke up in the morning. Her head ached like someone was pounding on it with a hammer, and the sunlight in the room burned her eyes. She raised her hand to her head, but dropped it in an instant, making the pain almost unbearable. Instead she remained laying under the soft blanket that covered her, tears running down her cheeks because of the severe light, while blinking like crazy. It didn't help. 

"Hello?" she called into the air. No response. "Is anybody there?" The second time she called, she could hear the rising panic in her voice. The worst thing was that she couldn't remember a thing of what had happened; the only thing she knew for sure, was that this certainly wasn't her bed.

"Well" she said, trying to convince herself she didn't have to squeak like that. "I can't lay around here all day." Then she took a deep breath, and swung her legs down from the bed. A moment she just sat there, her chest rising and lowering heavily from the work. Why did she feel so weak? She hadn't done anything that should cause a state like this, at least not as she could remember. There it was again: as she could remember. Why did it feel like someone had torn away her memory, replacing it with some sort of dark fog? It really was frustrating. When her breath steadied, she gripped the edge of the bed, and pulled herself on her feet.

She swayed. I'm not going fall. I'm not going to fall, she repeated convincingly to herself. With a sigh of release, she tried to take a step, but her foot banged into something metallic, causing tendrils up her already exhausted leg. She lost her balance, and desperately clung something that seemed like a folding screen. 

Unfortunately, the screen wasn't meant to be clung at, and suddenly she lay on the floor, arms and legs twisted into piles of blankets. 

The sound of clanking heals which marched into the room filled the air. "I told you she needed rest! Now, get out of…" she heard a furious voice yell, and then both the steps and the voice stopped dead. 

" Ginny, what are you doing there?" the female voice asked more softly, helping the tiny girl who was struggling under the blankets. 

 "I can't see anything," Ginny cried frantically.

"No, it's just the potion that makes your sight more sensible to light. Within an hour, it will have worn out. Don't worry" 

The tone was motherly now, and Ginny realized with a bang that this was the same person who'd been nursing her in her second year at Hogwarts.   

"Madam Pomfrey?" she asked as the woman pulled Ginny to her feet, and guided her back to her bed.  

 "Yes, darling?"

 "Why am I here?" she felt how the other person stiffened. 

 "You still don't remember?" Ginny shook her head; a little annoyed that both Draco and Madame Pomfrey seemed to be so interested in that particular question. 

 "Just lay here for a moment, will you? I'll be right back." She left Ginny feeling like a huge question mark, which only was increased when she heard Madame Pomfrey mumble something like, "Oh, dear, this is not good. Have to find Dumbledore," to herself. 

Fifteen minutes later found the headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry in deep conversation with the youngest member of the Weasley family.

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A week had passed since the day in the Forest, but Draco still felt shaken. Of course that was on the inside; outside he was still that spoiled and bragging sixth year student who got the best grades in his whole house. He had early learned not to show his feelings, especially not vulnerability. Instead, he showed people what they wanted to see; someone they loved to hate, someone frightening. Not that he complained; Draco was content with this arrangement indeed. He was dreaded, and dread lead to respect, which again lead to power.   

It was Potions class. Draco sat in the back of the chill dungeon, absently playing with his quill, his apparently interested look switched on. Snape was drawling about the uses of vampire's teeth, but Draco didn't catch the words. He'd been studying his quill for quite a long time when he looked up and his gaze quickly landed on the back right in front of him. 

_Her_ back. He hadn't confronted her yet, but he knew he had to do it soon. He had to know, most of all because if what he was afraid of were true, he would have time to prepare himself before his father told him. But at the same time, he didn't want to know. Pansy hadn't talked to him since before the summer, and now she was visibly ignoring him. Or had it been him ignoring her? Doing everything he could just so he didn't have to speak to her? Honestly, he didn't know.  Perhaps some of both. 

A bang from several books smashing together at the same time woke him from his daydreaming. Class was dismissed. He saw Pansy hurling her things into her bag, and then rose so she could flee the classroom. Draco hurried after her. 

Outside the dungeon, he paused, looking to both sides. She was gone. How the hell could some one with so short legs run so fast? An anger rose within him, tensing his whole body. It was all her fault! Why did she have to owl him that stupid letter? If she hadn't he would have been living in a happily ignorance now. 

Unconsciously he started to walk up the spiral stone-stairs, his anger growing with each step he took. 

He stopped. His legs had taken him to a classroom he recognised very well indeed. It was here Pansy and he had used to go back in their fourth and fifth year. Everyone seemed to think that they'd been dating, but the fact was that the only thing they had shared, was a common understanding. In a way, they'd gone through the same childhood; both came from wealthy families where the most important in life was to be accepted by the others in the 'circle of riches', and he and Pansy had always been those little 'puppet' they parents proudly could show to the others when there was a party. And of course, both had parents who were loyal Death-Eater, but yet had run away with their tales between their legs when the Dark Lord was destroyed. 

Their lives had always mirrored each other's. Until now. 

He heard the rippling from heavy jewellery inside the room, and instinctively knew who it was. His heart skipped a beat. Only a common understanding, and nothing more, he had to remind himself of. The anger had vanished in a moment. 

"Pansy…" he started as he entered. She nearly bit off his head. Her cheeks were flustered, her eyes bright, and her little, plump figure quivered slightly.  

He didn't listen to the words she was screaming in his face, but knew they that each one of them was dipped in hatred, but there were also a trace of sorrow and wistfulness hidden behind those spiteful words. The last thing didn't matter, he found out as the anger rode over him like waves. She had no right to yell at him. After all, it was her fault_, _and no one else that had got her into this. He followed Pansy's example, and soon it looked like they were having a competition about who could shout loudest and at the same time hit the other with the most hurting comments. 

After a few minutes they paused to catch their breaths, both staring wildly at the other. Draco was the first to speak. It was no use to fight shy of it. With this girl, you had to speak straight from your shoulder. 

 "Just tell me," he said in a low, threatening tone, but his eyes almost pleading at the same time. "If it is true." That was the drop. He could see how she silently shattered inwardly, and suddenly she just looked tired, like she hadn't got any sleep for weeks. She stepped back, her now huge, watery eyes never leaving his concerned grey ones. Without a sound, she slowly rolled up her right sleeve. 

Draco wanted to shut his eyes. He wanted to scream. He wanted to run away. He wanted to tear that black serpent and skull away from the milky skin, but all he could do was stare. His legs were made of lead, and a dizzy feeling crept over his mind. Finally he managed to close his eyes, and took a few steadying breaths. 

When he opened his eyes again, she was gone.

Silently he went for his bag, and dragged his feet with him down the torch-lit corridor, the stonewalls shooting the sound of his weighty steps back at him. 

He turned a corner, and suddenly he stood face to face with Ginny Weasley.   

It's written in the scriptures   
It's written there in blood   
I even heard the angels declare it from above   
There ain't no cure,   
There ain't no cure,   
There ain't no cure for love

_~__Leonard Cohen._

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**A/N:** Thanks to my betas, Annie and Molly! Schnoogles to you, and all the others that have reviewed my story! Loff you:)

Love, /Violet 


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